Dying to Save You
General Maxwell Campbell stared across at the
man seated opposite. The man looked like a typical research scientist; middle
aged, hair receding and deep furrows in his forehead. His white lab coat
covered most of his clothes, with just a light blue shirt and tie showing
through the vee at the top. Max stood and offered his hand.
“Professor Johnson, it’s good to meet you.”
Professor Johnson remained in his seat and ignored his proffered hand.
“You wanted to see me,” Professor Johnson said.
Max sat back in his seat. As the new director of the Nelson-Faraday Institute he could not allow a civilian to undermine his authority.
“Have I done something to offend you, Professor?”
“No.”
“And yet I sense you don’t like me.”
“I’ve only just met you. I’ve no opinion of you one way or the other.”
Max thought he saw the slightest smile flit across Professor Johnson’s lips. He was being played with.
“Well, if not me, then what I represent.”
Max watched the Professor shift in his seat.
“What was it you wanted to talk to me about?” Professor Johnson asked.
“We’ll come to that. What I’m interested in now is why you are so opposed to working with your Government to protect the interests of your country.”
Max relaxed into his seat and waited for an answer. The uneasy silence stretched for almost a minute before the Professor answered.
“I’ve made my objections to the military appropriating my research quite clear. I’m sure it’s well documented in my prsonnel file.”
“It is, Professor, but I want to hear it from you. I’d like to understand exactly what the remote viewer is and why you are so opposed to the current arrangement for development. From the beginning please.”
“Very well.” The Professor said. “It began with my research at the University of West London about ten years ago. I was part of the team developing an engine for interstellar travel. We were getting nowhere.”
“That must have been frustrating,” Max said.
“Yes, it was. So I started exploring a different line of thinking. If we couldn’t design an engine that could travel faster than light, then clearly a different approach was required. That’s when I started to explore the use of wormholes. I made an amazing discovery. I found a way to capture, stabilise and manipulate wormholes; to connect two different points in space-time and create a bridge between them.”
“I just want to be clear,” Max began, “you’re telling me that you found a way to make a wormhole connect two different points in space as well as two different points in time.”
“Yes, exactly,” the Professor continued, “the problem was, even though the wormhole was stable, as soon as you tried to push matter past the event horizon, the gravitational force of the mass caused the wormhole to collapse.”
Max interrupted. “So let me get this straight, you could create a bridge, but you couldn’t cross it?”
“That’s basically right,” the Professor answered. “But you could see across the bridge. Light has no mass and will travel through the wormhole. In terms of interstellar travel, it was a complete failure. But this discovery formed the basis of the remote viewer.”
“That’s phenomenal in itself. We can see across great distances and view events from the past and the future,” Max said.
“Not the future unfortunately, the wormhole will only connect to a stable point in time. By that I mean one that exists or has existed. Wormholes will not connect with points in time that have not yet occurred and are therefore subject to change.”
Max kept an eye on his watch; he was on a tight schedule but his next appointment would just have to wait.
“Do you understand what this means?” It was a rhetorical question; the Professor did not wait for an answer. “It gives us the opportunity to view events from the past. We have already looked at some of the obvious ones, like the life of Jesus. What we discovered would destroy religion and social order as we know it. We had to keep it confidential.”
“Precisely,” Max seized on the opportunity, “and that is why it’s crucial that the Government take control of the project. This can’t be left in public hands.”
“If it were solely to keep the project confidential, I would have little concern. But it’s worse than that. The remote viewer gives us the ability to view any point in history. Our whole conversation this morning is now history. A split second ago is now history. The remote viewer is the perfect tool to spy on anyone at anytime and is entirely undetectable. The Government is using the remote viewer to spy on other governments and individuals who they consider a threat. This is ethically and morally wrong and probably illegal. That is why I object so strongly”.
Max was surprised at the strength of feeling the Professor exhibited. Espionage of one sort or another was not a new phenomenon. All governments indulged in it. The remote viewer was simply the most efficient method yet.
“Surely you accept that some loss of privacy is a small price to pay for the security of the nation?” Max asked.
Max looked intently at Professor Johnson. The Professor opened his mouth twice but said nothing. Then a look of resolution set in his face and he spoke.
“Last night you ate steak and chips with your wife. You talked about a holiday in Tuscany in September and your wife wore a pink night gown to bed.”
Max was incensed. “You spied on me?”
“Actually, no,” the Professor replied calmly, “I simply accessed yesterday’s recordings. It was the security forces that commissioned the surveillance. Perhaps you value privacy a little more than you did a few moments ago.”
Max would raise this with the security forces later, for now he was content not to allow the personal to interfere with the political. “I’ll admit that I’m not pleased to find that I have been under surveillance, but given my new position here, it’s entirely understandable.”
“And Professor Oksana Putyatin?”
“Who’s she?”
“She was a good woman and a brilliant physicist. We met at a seminar in Russia last year and had been in regular contact since. She and I work in similar fields and I know that she was exploring wormhole technology. She died in a house fire two weeks ago. It is perhaps a coincidence that the security forces had her under remote surveillance and another coincidence that as she was making progress, she met with a fatal accident.”
“Are you suggesting...”
Max was interrupted by Professor Johnson. “I merely note the coincidence. But it appears to me that her surveillance and her death may be connected.”
Max would not have been surprised if there was a connection, but he was not going to discuss that with Professor Johnson.
“I have another meeting in a few minutes, Professor. Would you mind if we continue this conversation later.”
Professor Leonard Johnson left the office. Max waited five minutes before telephoning the Secretary of State for Defence.
“You were right,” Max said, “Professor Johnson needs to be replaced.”
*****
Nobody prevented Professor Leonard Johnson entering the most secure room on the base. Nobody refused to leave the room when he ordered them out. Nobody raised the alarm when he locked the door behind them.
‘Somebody should have,” Max said, “you all know the protocols.”
Simon, one of the three technicians that had abandoned the room, said, “but it was Professor Johnson.”
Max glowered at him for a full 30 seconds. It might have been longer except the Head of Security entered. He spoke immediately. “He’s jammed the locking mechanism; it will take at least an hour to cut our way in.”
Maxwell punched his left palm with his right hand. “Shit. Can’t you do anything to speed it up?”
“Sorry, Sir. It’s a sealed room, no windows and specifically designed to keep people out. An hour’s the best I can promise.”
“What about explosives?”
“Using explosive will risk destroying the equipment inside, and killing Professor Johnson. Besides which, we would need about the same amount of time to acquire and set the explosive.”
“OK, well go back and see what you can do. I want to be in there as soon as we can. Report back on progress every ten minutes.”
“Yes, Sir.” He promptly left the room.
Max looked up at the CCTV feed from the remote viewer room. There was an image of Professor Johnson; his back was to the camera as he worked the controls of the remote viewer.
“Can we establish the co-ordinates he’s entering?” Maxwell asked.
“Not from here, Sir,” Simon answered, “but I can check the audit trail on the main computer.”
“Do it.”
Simon raced out of the room. Max got closer to the monitor and squinted at the picture. Leonard’s body completely blocked the view to the remote viewer’s control panel. What was he doing? Max picked up the phone and dialled. He saw Professor Johnson momentarily glance at the ringing phone before he returned his focus to the control panel.
A few minutes later, Simon returned. “I have the co-ordinates, Sir.”
Maxwell waited a couple of seconds before asking, “well, what are they then?” He involuntarily rolled his eyes as he spoke.
“They are Professor Johnson’s office at the University of West London, about ten years ago, Sir. “
“Are you sure? Why on earth would he go to all this trouble simply to view something from his own past? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Yes, Sir, I double checked the co-ordinates and he has initiated the wormhole. I’d estimate it will form in approximately fifty minutes.”
Maxwell looked up at the CCTV monitor. Professor Johnson still had his back to the camera but he was no longer working the controls.
The phone rang and Max answered; it was the Head of Security.
“How close are you to getting in?” Max asked.
“We’ve made some progress, I’d estimate another forty to fifty minutes.”
“Make it forty.” Max looked at his watch; two forty five. “I want to be in there before three thirty.”
“Yes, Sir, we’re going as fast as we can.”
Max replaced the receiver. This was his first day in post and Professor Johnson had monopolised the whole day. Maybe he should have detained him immediately, but it was too late for that now.
“Sir?” Simon asked.
Maxwell faced him.
“Are we being overly concerned? Professor Johnson isn’t causing any damage and he seems only to be interested in his own past.”
“For the moment,” came the reply, “but he is a smart man. He invented the remote viewer and knows it better than anyone. I can’t believe he would go to this much trouble without a clear motive.”
Simon shuffled his feet and looked down. “I can’t think of anything he could do. Whatever he sees through the viewer won’t be of any use. He will be detained as soon as he walks through the door. He must know that.”
Max pondered the remark, “then perhaps he does not intend to walk through the door.”
“But there is no other way out.” Simon said.
“Isn’t there? Wasn’t the original research focussed on using wormholes as a means for interstellar travel? Couldn’t he travel through the wormhole?”
“No, Sir, that’s impossible.”
Max pointed to the CCTV monitor, “then why is he removing the view screen? Won’t that give him direct access to the wormhole?”
They watched as Professor Johnson removed the screen.
“Yes, Sir, he will have direct access to the wormhole now, but I assure you he will not be able to travel through it.”
“How can you be so sure? He might’ve found a way.”
“Sir, a wormhole is a tunnel through space-time. At each end of the wormhole is an event horizon. This is where the wormhole interfaces with the two connecting points. The event horizon is very fragile. It has a small repulsive force which protects it from the motion of air but it will collapse if even the smallest particle of matter enters it.”
That is what Professor Johnson had told him. Max wondered if one or both of them were lying to him. “And yet he is exposing the wormhole.” Max said.
The Head of Security checked in by phone.
“We are making good progress; another twenty five minutes and we’ll be in.”
“Thanks. Let me know five minutes before you’re through.” Max said as he ended the call. Max returned his attention to Simon. “Well, why else would he do that?”
“I really don’t know, Sir. I can’t think of any good reason for exposing the wormhole.”
“How long before the wormhole is formed?”
“About twenty minutes, Sir,” Simon replied.
The phone rang. Max put the phone to his ear, “Hello Professor Johnson, are you going to tell me what the fuck’s going on?”
“I’m sorry, I needed to get everything ready before I could talk to you. I will not have much time once the wormhole forms. You were quicker off the mark than I expected.” There was a slight pause. “Is Simon with you?”
“Yes.”
“Good, he may need to explain some of this if we run out of time. It might be best to put me on speaker phone.”
Max pressed the speaker button on the phone, “Done. Now explain.”
Professor Johnson remained perfectly calm. “I intend to destroy the remote viewer. I explained to you in some detail this morning why I need to do this.”
“OK,” Max said, “but there is no point destroying the remote viewer, there are three more in production and we will simply manufacture more.”
Max could see Professor Johnson take something out of a bag on the floor. It looked like a gun. “What’s that?”
“I’m coming to that,” said Leonard, “but to return to our conversation, you are quite right. Destroying the remote viewer in this room will be a vain sacrifice.”
“So you’re not going to damage it. That looks like a gun in your hand.”
He watched the Professor hold the object up to the CCTV camera.
“It is a gun, of sorts,” the Professor said.
“Oh, my God,” Simon said.
“I thought it might take you a little longer, Simon,” the Professor said. “It never occurred to me in all these years. Not until my conversation with General Campbell this morning. But now that it has, I must act.”
Max interrupted, “would you mind telling me what you’re talking about.”
It was Simon that answered. “Sir, he is going to kill himself, but not now, ten years ago. Before he learned how to initiate and manipulate wormholes. It will mean that the remote viewer was never invented.”
“But how can he do that? You told me that nothing could travel through a wormhole. Surely if he fires the gun through the wormhole, it will collapse.”
The colour had drained from Simon’s face. “It’s so obvious now, Sir. I don’t know how we didn’t realise this before.”
“I don’t understand.” Max said.
Professor Johnson answered, “imagine if you could kill anybody in history, at any time. You could kill your political opponents before they came to power. You could manipulate history to your own ends without anyone knowing what you had done. It would be too tempting not to use that power. Professor Putyatin is a clear example of what would happen. I can’t have that on my conscience; I have to prevent this weapon from ever being built. The only way I can do that is to kill my younger self.”
“But how?” Maxwell thumped his fist on the table.
“I didn’t say that nothing could travel through the wormhole. I said it would collapse due to the gravitational force of even the smallest particle of matter that enters it.”
“I’m assuming that would include bullets,” said Max.
“Yes, it would. But there is something we all know can travel through the wormhole, otherwise we would not be able to view what is at the other end.”
“Light?” Max asked.
“Ah, the wormhole has formed and I can see that it’s at the perfect angle. Goodbye General Campbell, I’ve no time to lose, your men will be through the door any minute.” Professor Johnson aimed the laser gun at his younger back and pulled the trigger.
*****
One year later
Professor Oksana Putyatin checked her calculations one more time. She could find no error in her workings. She jumped up from her chair and raced out of the room. She knocked on the door of the Minister of Internal Affairs.
“Come in.”
She almost fell through the door in her excitement. “I’ve done it, Sir. I can have a working model in less than six months.”
“Professor Johnson, it’s good to meet you.”
Professor Johnson remained in his seat and ignored his proffered hand.
“You wanted to see me,” Professor Johnson said.
Max sat back in his seat. As the new director of the Nelson-Faraday Institute he could not allow a civilian to undermine his authority.
“Have I done something to offend you, Professor?”
“No.”
“And yet I sense you don’t like me.”
“I’ve only just met you. I’ve no opinion of you one way or the other.”
Max thought he saw the slightest smile flit across Professor Johnson’s lips. He was being played with.
“Well, if not me, then what I represent.”
Max watched the Professor shift in his seat.
“What was it you wanted to talk to me about?” Professor Johnson asked.
“We’ll come to that. What I’m interested in now is why you are so opposed to working with your Government to protect the interests of your country.”
Max relaxed into his seat and waited for an answer. The uneasy silence stretched for almost a minute before the Professor answered.
“I’ve made my objections to the military appropriating my research quite clear. I’m sure it’s well documented in my prsonnel file.”
“It is, Professor, but I want to hear it from you. I’d like to understand exactly what the remote viewer is and why you are so opposed to the current arrangement for development. From the beginning please.”
“Very well.” The Professor said. “It began with my research at the University of West London about ten years ago. I was part of the team developing an engine for interstellar travel. We were getting nowhere.”
“That must have been frustrating,” Max said.
“Yes, it was. So I started exploring a different line of thinking. If we couldn’t design an engine that could travel faster than light, then clearly a different approach was required. That’s when I started to explore the use of wormholes. I made an amazing discovery. I found a way to capture, stabilise and manipulate wormholes; to connect two different points in space-time and create a bridge between them.”
“I just want to be clear,” Max began, “you’re telling me that you found a way to make a wormhole connect two different points in space as well as two different points in time.”
“Yes, exactly,” the Professor continued, “the problem was, even though the wormhole was stable, as soon as you tried to push matter past the event horizon, the gravitational force of the mass caused the wormhole to collapse.”
Max interrupted. “So let me get this straight, you could create a bridge, but you couldn’t cross it?”
“That’s basically right,” the Professor answered. “But you could see across the bridge. Light has no mass and will travel through the wormhole. In terms of interstellar travel, it was a complete failure. But this discovery formed the basis of the remote viewer.”
“That’s phenomenal in itself. We can see across great distances and view events from the past and the future,” Max said.
“Not the future unfortunately, the wormhole will only connect to a stable point in time. By that I mean one that exists or has existed. Wormholes will not connect with points in time that have not yet occurred and are therefore subject to change.”
Max kept an eye on his watch; he was on a tight schedule but his next appointment would just have to wait.
“Do you understand what this means?” It was a rhetorical question; the Professor did not wait for an answer. “It gives us the opportunity to view events from the past. We have already looked at some of the obvious ones, like the life of Jesus. What we discovered would destroy religion and social order as we know it. We had to keep it confidential.”
“Precisely,” Max seized on the opportunity, “and that is why it’s crucial that the Government take control of the project. This can’t be left in public hands.”
“If it were solely to keep the project confidential, I would have little concern. But it’s worse than that. The remote viewer gives us the ability to view any point in history. Our whole conversation this morning is now history. A split second ago is now history. The remote viewer is the perfect tool to spy on anyone at anytime and is entirely undetectable. The Government is using the remote viewer to spy on other governments and individuals who they consider a threat. This is ethically and morally wrong and probably illegal. That is why I object so strongly”.
Max was surprised at the strength of feeling the Professor exhibited. Espionage of one sort or another was not a new phenomenon. All governments indulged in it. The remote viewer was simply the most efficient method yet.
“Surely you accept that some loss of privacy is a small price to pay for the security of the nation?” Max asked.
Max looked intently at Professor Johnson. The Professor opened his mouth twice but said nothing. Then a look of resolution set in his face and he spoke.
“Last night you ate steak and chips with your wife. You talked about a holiday in Tuscany in September and your wife wore a pink night gown to bed.”
Max was incensed. “You spied on me?”
“Actually, no,” the Professor replied calmly, “I simply accessed yesterday’s recordings. It was the security forces that commissioned the surveillance. Perhaps you value privacy a little more than you did a few moments ago.”
Max would raise this with the security forces later, for now he was content not to allow the personal to interfere with the political. “I’ll admit that I’m not pleased to find that I have been under surveillance, but given my new position here, it’s entirely understandable.”
“And Professor Oksana Putyatin?”
“Who’s she?”
“She was a good woman and a brilliant physicist. We met at a seminar in Russia last year and had been in regular contact since. She and I work in similar fields and I know that she was exploring wormhole technology. She died in a house fire two weeks ago. It is perhaps a coincidence that the security forces had her under remote surveillance and another coincidence that as she was making progress, she met with a fatal accident.”
“Are you suggesting...”
Max was interrupted by Professor Johnson. “I merely note the coincidence. But it appears to me that her surveillance and her death may be connected.”
Max would not have been surprised if there was a connection, but he was not going to discuss that with Professor Johnson.
“I have another meeting in a few minutes, Professor. Would you mind if we continue this conversation later.”
Professor Leonard Johnson left the office. Max waited five minutes before telephoning the Secretary of State for Defence.
“You were right,” Max said, “Professor Johnson needs to be replaced.”
*****
Nobody prevented Professor Leonard Johnson entering the most secure room on the base. Nobody refused to leave the room when he ordered them out. Nobody raised the alarm when he locked the door behind them.
‘Somebody should have,” Max said, “you all know the protocols.”
Simon, one of the three technicians that had abandoned the room, said, “but it was Professor Johnson.”
Max glowered at him for a full 30 seconds. It might have been longer except the Head of Security entered. He spoke immediately. “He’s jammed the locking mechanism; it will take at least an hour to cut our way in.”
Maxwell punched his left palm with his right hand. “Shit. Can’t you do anything to speed it up?”
“Sorry, Sir. It’s a sealed room, no windows and specifically designed to keep people out. An hour’s the best I can promise.”
“What about explosives?”
“Using explosive will risk destroying the equipment inside, and killing Professor Johnson. Besides which, we would need about the same amount of time to acquire and set the explosive.”
“OK, well go back and see what you can do. I want to be in there as soon as we can. Report back on progress every ten minutes.”
“Yes, Sir.” He promptly left the room.
Max looked up at the CCTV feed from the remote viewer room. There was an image of Professor Johnson; his back was to the camera as he worked the controls of the remote viewer.
“Can we establish the co-ordinates he’s entering?” Maxwell asked.
“Not from here, Sir,” Simon answered, “but I can check the audit trail on the main computer.”
“Do it.”
Simon raced out of the room. Max got closer to the monitor and squinted at the picture. Leonard’s body completely blocked the view to the remote viewer’s control panel. What was he doing? Max picked up the phone and dialled. He saw Professor Johnson momentarily glance at the ringing phone before he returned his focus to the control panel.
A few minutes later, Simon returned. “I have the co-ordinates, Sir.”
Maxwell waited a couple of seconds before asking, “well, what are they then?” He involuntarily rolled his eyes as he spoke.
“They are Professor Johnson’s office at the University of West London, about ten years ago, Sir. “
“Are you sure? Why on earth would he go to all this trouble simply to view something from his own past? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Yes, Sir, I double checked the co-ordinates and he has initiated the wormhole. I’d estimate it will form in approximately fifty minutes.”
Maxwell looked up at the CCTV monitor. Professor Johnson still had his back to the camera but he was no longer working the controls.
The phone rang and Max answered; it was the Head of Security.
“How close are you to getting in?” Max asked.
“We’ve made some progress, I’d estimate another forty to fifty minutes.”
“Make it forty.” Max looked at his watch; two forty five. “I want to be in there before three thirty.”
“Yes, Sir, we’re going as fast as we can.”
Max replaced the receiver. This was his first day in post and Professor Johnson had monopolised the whole day. Maybe he should have detained him immediately, but it was too late for that now.
“Sir?” Simon asked.
Maxwell faced him.
“Are we being overly concerned? Professor Johnson isn’t causing any damage and he seems only to be interested in his own past.”
“For the moment,” came the reply, “but he is a smart man. He invented the remote viewer and knows it better than anyone. I can’t believe he would go to this much trouble without a clear motive.”
Simon shuffled his feet and looked down. “I can’t think of anything he could do. Whatever he sees through the viewer won’t be of any use. He will be detained as soon as he walks through the door. He must know that.”
Max pondered the remark, “then perhaps he does not intend to walk through the door.”
“But there is no other way out.” Simon said.
“Isn’t there? Wasn’t the original research focussed on using wormholes as a means for interstellar travel? Couldn’t he travel through the wormhole?”
“No, Sir, that’s impossible.”
Max pointed to the CCTV monitor, “then why is he removing the view screen? Won’t that give him direct access to the wormhole?”
They watched as Professor Johnson removed the screen.
“Yes, Sir, he will have direct access to the wormhole now, but I assure you he will not be able to travel through it.”
“How can you be so sure? He might’ve found a way.”
“Sir, a wormhole is a tunnel through space-time. At each end of the wormhole is an event horizon. This is where the wormhole interfaces with the two connecting points. The event horizon is very fragile. It has a small repulsive force which protects it from the motion of air but it will collapse if even the smallest particle of matter enters it.”
That is what Professor Johnson had told him. Max wondered if one or both of them were lying to him. “And yet he is exposing the wormhole.” Max said.
The Head of Security checked in by phone.
“We are making good progress; another twenty five minutes and we’ll be in.”
“Thanks. Let me know five minutes before you’re through.” Max said as he ended the call. Max returned his attention to Simon. “Well, why else would he do that?”
“I really don’t know, Sir. I can’t think of any good reason for exposing the wormhole.”
“How long before the wormhole is formed?”
“About twenty minutes, Sir,” Simon replied.
The phone rang. Max put the phone to his ear, “Hello Professor Johnson, are you going to tell me what the fuck’s going on?”
“I’m sorry, I needed to get everything ready before I could talk to you. I will not have much time once the wormhole forms. You were quicker off the mark than I expected.” There was a slight pause. “Is Simon with you?”
“Yes.”
“Good, he may need to explain some of this if we run out of time. It might be best to put me on speaker phone.”
Max pressed the speaker button on the phone, “Done. Now explain.”
Professor Johnson remained perfectly calm. “I intend to destroy the remote viewer. I explained to you in some detail this morning why I need to do this.”
“OK,” Max said, “but there is no point destroying the remote viewer, there are three more in production and we will simply manufacture more.”
Max could see Professor Johnson take something out of a bag on the floor. It looked like a gun. “What’s that?”
“I’m coming to that,” said Leonard, “but to return to our conversation, you are quite right. Destroying the remote viewer in this room will be a vain sacrifice.”
“So you’re not going to damage it. That looks like a gun in your hand.”
He watched the Professor hold the object up to the CCTV camera.
“It is a gun, of sorts,” the Professor said.
“Oh, my God,” Simon said.
“I thought it might take you a little longer, Simon,” the Professor said. “It never occurred to me in all these years. Not until my conversation with General Campbell this morning. But now that it has, I must act.”
Max interrupted, “would you mind telling me what you’re talking about.”
It was Simon that answered. “Sir, he is going to kill himself, but not now, ten years ago. Before he learned how to initiate and manipulate wormholes. It will mean that the remote viewer was never invented.”
“But how can he do that? You told me that nothing could travel through a wormhole. Surely if he fires the gun through the wormhole, it will collapse.”
The colour had drained from Simon’s face. “It’s so obvious now, Sir. I don’t know how we didn’t realise this before.”
“I don’t understand.” Max said.
Professor Johnson answered, “imagine if you could kill anybody in history, at any time. You could kill your political opponents before they came to power. You could manipulate history to your own ends without anyone knowing what you had done. It would be too tempting not to use that power. Professor Putyatin is a clear example of what would happen. I can’t have that on my conscience; I have to prevent this weapon from ever being built. The only way I can do that is to kill my younger self.”
“But how?” Maxwell thumped his fist on the table.
“I didn’t say that nothing could travel through the wormhole. I said it would collapse due to the gravitational force of even the smallest particle of matter that enters it.”
“I’m assuming that would include bullets,” said Max.
“Yes, it would. But there is something we all know can travel through the wormhole, otherwise we would not be able to view what is at the other end.”
“Light?” Max asked.
“Ah, the wormhole has formed and I can see that it’s at the perfect angle. Goodbye General Campbell, I’ve no time to lose, your men will be through the door any minute.” Professor Johnson aimed the laser gun at his younger back and pulled the trigger.
*****
One year later
Professor Oksana Putyatin checked her calculations one more time. She could find no error in her workings. She jumped up from her chair and raced out of the room. She knocked on the door of the Minister of Internal Affairs.
“Come in.”
She almost fell through the door in her excitement. “I’ve done it, Sir. I can have a working model in less than six months.”